


dirt running through my mind

by hellabaloo



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dubious Consent, Frottage, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellabaloo/pseuds/hellabaloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they drift, Raleigh couldn’t put the feeling into words. It just felt right.</p><p>The second time they drift, Raleigh feels like a rug has been yanked out from under him and he’s falling in slow motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dirt running through my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StripySock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripySock/gifts).



> I loved your prompts and had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you like it :)

The first time they drift, Raleigh couldn’t put the feeling into words. It was like everything and nothing the training had prepared him for. He could _feel_ Yancy next to him, but it was more than that. All the research, the briefings they had read made it sound like the Drift was this tangible thing between pilots. Not that they were wrong, but Raleigh feels like drifting with Yancy is what it must feel like to never realize you were missing a limb until suddenly, somehow it was back.

You were fine before, you could go back to how it used to be without a problem if you had to, but knowing what he did, Raleigh would never make that choice. He didn’t even need the Drift to know that Yancy wouldn’t either.

The entire crew manning the training Conn-Pod is caught up in the satisfaction of a successful, stable neural handshake between new partners and Raleigh is caught in a feedback loop of euphoria. He almost falls over trying to disengage his boot from the stirrups in a hurry, but Yancy is there to make sure he doesn’t make an ass of himself. There’s the squeeze of a gloved hand at the nape of his neck and Raleigh feels a surge of warmth skitter down his spine. Raleigh turns his head and smiles at his brother who’s laughing at his failed coordination. He’s not quite sure if it’s them actually ghost-drifting or just a lifetime of protecting each other that he knows what Yancy means is, _I’ll always be here for you_.

They clank out of the Conn-Pod and down the shatterdome's narrow hallways in lockstep before rounding a corner and being accosted by a grinning Tendo.

“Becket boys! For having such ugly mugs, you two make a beautiful neural handshake. Nary a rabbit in sight.”

Swinging an arm around each of their necks, making them stoop to match his height, Tendo maneuvers them along the hall towards the staging bay where they’ll be helped out of their suits before being shepherded in front of Marshall Pentecost for a debrief. 

Tendo, dropping his voice, says, “Drinks in the East Canteen tonight. Marisol already promised a case of her special reserve hooch for the occasion. We’re gonna celebrate in style tonight.” The last part he says with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Raleigh throws his head back, laughing, but he can feel Yancy’s frown. The realization that he’s not in perfect sync with his brother anymore almost makes Raleigh stumble.

“Even after what happened to Satomi?” Yancy asks, voice quiet and his brow furrowed. 

Tendo sobers and his easy smile loses all the joy it had held just a moment before. “Erica was with us in LOCCENT during your trial. She was the one suggested we celebrate a little. I doubt she’ll come. Who would, in her shoes?”

Raleigh couldn’t imagine it: a wife in a medically-induced coma after an unexpected seizure while trying to establish a neural bridge and still being gracious enough to suggest a party to toast the very thing that had put her there. 

If it were Yancy, Raleigh’s not so sure he could be so loyal to the cause. He doesn’t know which is more likely—that he’d try to burn down the world or slink away to grieve alone in some forgotten corner of the world.

Raleigh can see the moment when Yancy make his decision and his shoulders loosen.

“Well, if she’s okay with it,” Yancy says, that half-smile Raleigh knows so well sneaking into the corner of his mouth, “what can you do to get us out of these suits? I think it’s starting to cut off my circulation to some very important parts.”

Tendo’s smile is back as he untwines his arms from around their necks and pushes them down the hall towards staging. Yancy and Raleigh fall back into lockstep and head into staging where J-Techs swarm around them, replacing the spinal clamps back into their holding boxes and unscrewing the suits. 

Raleigh tosses a glance at Yancy beside him and says, with a wink, “Marisol is donating a whole case of booze? We definitely have to take advantage of that.”

He can’t move to avoid the slap to the back of his head that Yancy swiftly delivers. “Don’t be an ass, kid.”

Raleigh understand he shouldn’t be too cavalier about any of this; for all the success of the Jaeger program, they had been giving the raw stats on drift compatible pairs actually becoming pilots during basic training and it wasn’t high. He schools his features for their debriefing, but inside he can’t help but feel the sheer joy bubble up within him. 

They had finally _drifted_. 

Not just studied the theory or been prepped for the psychological impact, but actually done it. Their neural handshake was stable and strong. Another round of testing and they’d get to see what it was like to interface in a real Conn-Pod. It was the first part of the Jaeger currently taking shape in bay 06 to be fully operational. Jaeger MIII-AKGD-1707 hadn’t been christened yet, or really even taken its shape beyond the internal wiring, but Raleigh had been watching it slowly be built and would probably always think it was the most beautiful Jaeger in existence. And if their next neural handshake were as successful as their first and they then integrated well with the Jaeger, he and Yancy would be fully-fledged PPDC Rangers.

Raleigh can’t help grinning at the direction of his thoughts and doesn’t even need the after-effects of the drift to know Yancy, despite still worrying about seeming uncaring towards their fellow Ranger recruit, is just as excited.

And when they finally do make it to the canteen, there’s definitely a celebratory atmosphere, but it’s still hard to really let loose for the inhabitants of a shatterdome. There’s that lingering feeling that they can’t get too complacent—the next kaiju attack could come at anytime.

Raleigh does manage to drink enough that he needs Yancy to help him back to their billet. The world isn’t cooperating with Raleigh and the room won’t stop moving, but Raleigh sighs contentedly as he feels Yancy smooth his hair back from his forehead and his hands linger as he tucks Raleigh into bed.

 

The second time they drift, Raleigh feels like a rug has been yanked out from under him and he’s falling in slow motion, suspended and waiting to hit the ground. 

Everything had started exactly the same in the second round of drift testing as it had the first time. Knowing what was coming this time, the feeling of wholeness and _rightness_ , Raleigh was bouncing on the balls of his feet nagging Yancy to hurry up already. Yancy barely spared him an indulgent grin as he carried on just like before. They go through the full routine of getting properly screwed into their drivesuits, their spinal clamps connected and registering the all-clear, the relay gel feeling sticky on Raleigh’s face before there’s even an idea of a problem.

“Engage pilot-to-pilot protocol,” they hear Dr. Blais, their J-Tech pons specialist who’s been monitoring their neural tests, call over the comms before Tendo echoes him.

“Prepare for neural handshake in fifteen seconds.”

Raleigh, an eager grin stretching across his face, turns to Yancy, who’s already looking at him with an expression he can’t quite read. It throws him and dims his smile, but it doesn’t matter. They’ll be in the drift soon and there won’t be anything they can hide from each other.

“Any last confessions, old man?”

Tendo is counting down, his voice steady and comforting in its familiarity.

Yancy pauses, looking almost guilty, then grins. “Why? Worried you’ll catch an eyeful?”

Raleigh doesn’t have time to respond before the cool, smooth voice of the training Conn-Pod is announcing, “Neural handshake initiated,” and they are thrown into the oddly pale and blue-tinted headspace of the drift.

Memories flit by them, most of them shared—from both of their perspectives at once—some of them not, until suddenly there’s an image striking for being in technicolor and sharp. 

It’s Yancy. Yancy pinning someone, some guy, to a wall. Raleigh’s curious, but he expects it to dissolve into another memory before getting to see more. 

Except it doesn’t. It seems like they’re only getting closer and Raleigh’s chest suddenly feels tight.

“Yancy—” he tries to shout, but it doesn’t come out like a shout at all. It sounds weird. Like he can’t catch his breath, like he was interrupted while in the middle of—

“Becket! Raleigh!” Tendo’s voice crackles over the comms, tension clear. “You’re both out of alignment.”

“I’m fine,” Raleigh says. “Just give me—”

“You’re coming back, but Yancy’s way out. You gotta bring him back. I think he’s chasing a rabbit.”

The tightness in Raleigh’s chest gets worse hearing those words. As pilot candidates they’re taught the dangers of R.A.B.I.T.s and how to focus and stay in the drift, but it’s a lot different facing it in reality.

Raleigh turns towards Yancy and suddenly he’s back in that memory, the colors way more saturated than the drift ever has been before. He thinks he can hear Tendo somewhere in the background, but he’s being drowned out by the blood rushing through Raleigh’s ears. Yancy’s naked back is to him and he’s pinned a guy against a wall, Yancy’s hands firmly clasping his arms, keeping them against the wall. When he joked about confessions, watching his brother make out with someone was not exactly what he had in mind.

“Yancy,” Raleigh says, but he can barely hear himself. He opens his mouth to try again when Yancy’s partner in tonsil hockey moans. It’s loud and needy and despite himself Raleigh feels a frisson of arousal shoot straight to his dick.

“ _Yancy_ ,” the guy says, all breathy and two things happen simultaneously.

First, Yancy turns around and looks Raleigh straight in the eye and Raleigh nearly buckles under the sheer weight of embarrassment and shame and a sickly tendril of fear that crash into their headspace.

Second, Raleigh understands Yancy hasn’t been in a memory but a fantasy. And in his fantasy, Yancy pins Raleigh against a wall and kisses him until he moans like whore begging for it.

The drift splinters around them and the neutral voice of the Conn-Pod computer announces, “Neural handshake failed,” before Tendo’s much more concerned voice comes over the comms.

“Raleigh! Yancy! Are you two ok? What happened?”

Raleigh opens his mouth to explain and then flushes, because how is he supposed to explain this? 

Not to mention how is he supposed to keep the disappointment from voice at not seeing more, and Raleigh snaps his mouth shut because he’s not sure where _that_ particular thought came from. 

Was it his own or an after effect from the aborted drift?

For the first time since they went in, Yancy speaks. “That was me. Got caught in a loop, and I didn’t—”

He pauses and Raleigh still can’t look at him without feeling his entire face blush so he keeps his eyes unfocused on the walls of the training Conn-Pod in front of him. 

“I couldn’t get out. Sorry. I. I have to go.” 

Yancy disengages from the stirrups and the J-Techs that had been waiting in the wings begin the work to release him from the pons quicker than Raleigh had ever seen before. 

Raleigh can’t move. He can’t get the image of his brother looming over him, kissing him, pressing the full length of his body into him out of his head. And he can’t stop feeling arousal from that image. The drivesuit prevents him from popping a boner in front of all of LOCCENT and for that Raleigh is thankful, but that he’s even thinking of his dick and his brother in the same context is disconcerting. 

“It’s not unheard of, you know,” Tendo says, suddenly in front of him and not over the comms.

“Hm?” Raleigh hums distractedly instead of voicing the question. 

“A modesty reflex kicking in after a first drift. A pilot is faced with a successful drift and bam,” Tendo says, smacking the pack of his hand into his open palm. “All those good vibes from an actually compatible partner fly out the window when they actually have to bare their soul.”

“Yancy doesn’t have a soul,” Raleigh says without thinking, a younger brother’s instinct kicking in. Tendo levels an unimpressed look at him. The J-Techs buzzing around them have finished and Raleigh needs Tendo to steady him as he disengages his own stirrups.

“You two are capable of maintaining a strong neural handshake. This is just a hiccup,” Tendo tells him, a kind smile on his face. Raleigh has the most ridiculous urge to laugh hysterically. He’s pretty sure the PPDC isn’t so hard up for viable pilot candidates that they’d look kindly on an incestuous relationship. It makes Raleigh stop in his tracks, that he’s already thinking of whatever that was as something that could happen.

“I should—” Raleigh starts and Tendo cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“Right, yeah, go. Talk to Yancy. We’ll reschedule a retrial tomorrow.”

Raleigh moves as fast as the heavy drivesuit boots allow, nearly throwing off the body armor and circuitry suit at the J-Techs in staging to be done as fast as possible. He’s still tugging up his jumpsuit over his undershirt as he runs down the hallways of the shatterdome to his and Yancy’s room. Raleigh nearly runs smack into the heavy metal door, expecting it to be open and finding it locked instead.

He tries the handle latch again for good measure, but when it doesn’t budge he begins pounding his fist against the door.

Not caring how much racket he’s making, Raleigh starts to shout for good measure, “Yancy! I know you’re in there. Come on, open the fucking door. We need to talk about this.”

A few passing K-Science assistants give him strange looks, but that’s hardly new. Raleigh knows he’s got a bit of reputation for being an exuberant guy. He keeps pounding steadily on the door, the dull thud of his fist against the metal reverberating down the hall. Pausing briefly to press his ear to the door, Raleigh can hear Yancy shuffling around inside.

“Yancy, you dickwad, open the door. I can keep this up all day, you know I can,” Raleigh threatens. He’s about to start adding rhythms to his incessant drubbing, when the door is suddenly slid open and Yancy is standing there. He looks like he normally does when Raleigh wakes him up too early, but there’s a tension to his shoulders and Raleigh can see the guarded expression in his eyes.

Neither of them knows what the fuck to do now.

Raleigh pushes his way into the room, but as soon he gets near Yancy retreats just as quickly. Raleigh lets him retreat to the other side of their small room, and stops to close and latch the door. He leans against it and just looks at Yancy for a moment.

Raleigh tries, but can’t really sees him like a stranger might—is he attractive because he is, or is because of single thought that’s burned itself into Raleigh’s brain? And now that he’s started thinking about it, he can’t _stop_ , turning it over and over in his mind. There’s so history between them, so much of them being together against world that it makes it impossible. He heaves a sigh.

“So,” Raleigh says and lets it just hang in the air between them. He knows Yancy, knows him like he’ll know no one else in the world, and it’s clear Yancy is going to stubbornly refuse to actually talk about this.

Raleigh wonders how long they can try to wait out each other. They once spent two weeks refusing to speak to each other when they were kids, and that probably had been about something stupid like a video game. He catches Yancy’s gaze and holds it steadily. 

“So, you love me,” Raleigh says eventually.

He doesn’t expect Yancy to snort and roll his eyes like he usually does when Raleigh says something particularly stupid.

“Of course I love you,” Yancy says, but there’s something more, like he’s not saying everything.

“You want me,” Raleigh amends. 

And now it’s out there.

It’s one thing for the idea, the idea of them together, to just be something they saw in the drift. Now, it can’t stay in the drift. 

Yancy licks his lips. “No,” he says, his voice small.

Raleigh knows he’s lying. Yancy must know he’s lying. But Raleigh isn't really thinking beyond the visceral right now. Being thrown into his brother's fantasy, living it, however briefly, in vivid detail, makes him want to really experience it. There's a smallish thought that creeps into Raleigh's head, _you know it's_ wrong _and_ disgusting, but Raleigh thinks, arousal twisting in his stomach, that only makes him want it more.

“You _want_ to fuck me,” Raleigh says, pushing off the door and stalking closer to Yancy, who starts backing up but is caught by the wall at his back. 

“No,” Yancy repeats, refusing to meet Raleigh’s eyes as he closes the space between them and stands close, but without touching Yancy.

Raleigh places his palms on the wall, bracketing Yancy between them. Yancy tenses for a moment and then relaxes, like he knows he shouldn’t be allowing this, but can’t help himself. 

Leaning forward, Raleigh can whisper in his brother’s ear. “You’re lying.”

He moves back and watches, fascinated, as all of Yancy’s struggles play out across his face. He finally looks up into Raleigh’s eyes and says, “We _can’t_. This, this whatever _this_ is, can’t happen.”

The certainty with which he says it startles Raleigh. He hasn’t really been thinking of something not happening, just that had to make sure no one found out.

“You don’t actually want this. This is some ghost-drifting shit,” Yancy continues in Raleigh’s silence.

Raleigh isn’t in the habit of being very careful with his words, but he knows he needs to go slowly here. 

“I hadn’t thought of it before, true. But why can’t we?” Raleigh asks, looking at Yancy, his brother who he loved so much. “Just once?”

Yancy seems startled by Raleigh’s response; clearly not the one that he’d imagined himself. He looks at Raleigh’s lips while saying, “Would it really just be once?”

He’s not a teenager who can get hard from the breeze blowing in the right direction, but there’s something about the way that Yancy says it that makes Raleigh shiver in anticipation and he can feel his dick suddenly becoming very interested in the proceedings. 

“Sure,” Raleigh says with a grin, more carefree than he feels. “Why not? No one would have to know.”

And it’s like a switch is flipped in Yancy, who pushes off the wall, grabs Raleigh around the waist, and swiftly reverses their previous positions. The ease with which he does it, manhandles Raleigh right where he wants him, goes straight to Raleigh’s dick, which is definitely hard at this point. Raleigh feels more than hears Yancy groan as he pushes his own erection, hot even through the thick layers of his jumpsuit, into Raleigh’s hip. 

His hand snakes up to pin Raleigh’s wrist against the wall, his blunt fingernails digging into the soft skin of his brother’s wrist. Yancy braces his other palm against the wall beside Raleigh’s head, and starts to move against him. 

The sudden and persistent friction makes Raleigh gasp loudly, before he shoves his fist in his mouth to muffle the sounds spilling out his mouth. Yancy buries his face in Raleigh’s neck and begins sucking a hickey onto his skin with single-mindedness he probably hasn’t had since high school, but Raleigh wouldn’t dream of complaining. Between the steady friction of the rough twill of his jumpsuit against his dick as he rides his brother’s thigh and Yancy mouthing at his neck, Raleigh is already embarrassingly close to coming.

Yancy pulls off suddenly and looks at Raleigh, open mouthed and obscene, his lips red and looking well-used. Raleigh moans around his fist at the sight. Yancy pulls Raleigh’s spit-slick fist from his mouth and pins his wrist against the wall to match the other one and finally kisses him. 

Raleigh thought it was a bodice-ripper romance novel cliche to compare being kissed to being devoured, but the way Yancy kisses him—unflinching and aggressive—certainly feels like he’s trying to. Yancy bites Raleigh’s lip roughly and he is just gone, coming with a strangled whine that Yancy swallows. 

Raleigh feels his warm come seeping into his jumpsuit pants, spreading down his leg, and with Yancy still rocking against him, Raleigh is starting to edge towards the wrong side of too much stimulation. Yancy rests his forehead against Raleigh’s shoulder, his thrusts getting quicker and more irregular before he’s groaning and Raleigh can feel his brother’s warm come spreading through the fabric of his jumpsuit. 

They stay entwined together against the wall, just breathing in rhythm and reveling in the silence, until the cooling wet spots on their pants becomes uncomfortable. All through peeling out of their clothes and showering, they remain silent and move around each other with the well-practiced ease of two people who have been doing it for most of their lives. 

It’s not until they’re lying in bed that Raleigh can’t help himself anymore.

“Yancy?” he asks in the dark, like they did when they were kids. Raleigh might feel guilty, if he really stopped a moment to work out his feelings, but mostly he's scared that this has somehow changed them forever. He doesn't think it will. At least he hopes so.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” Raleigh says.

Yancy snorts and Raleigh can hear him turn over. “I know.”

“Good,” Raleigh says, finally feeling at ease enough to sleep. “We’ve got another neural test tomorrow.”

 

The third time they drift, Yancy and Raleigh have no problem establishing and holding a strong neural handshake. 

They share a secret, relieved smile in the Conn-Pod.


End file.
